


California's most wanted bachelors

by ElenyasBlood



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Pack Bonding, Threesome - M/M/M, actual boyfriends, college!Sex, sour skittles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:44:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenyasBlood/pseuds/ElenyasBlood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't exactly easy for Stiles to leave Beacon Hills and his father behind after he graduated from school. But with Scott sharing an apartment with him and keeping him warm at night, things work out just fine. </p>
<p>And when after a particular long day at the college, Stiles returns to their apartment just to find a surprise waiting for him, things go from good to peachy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	California's most wanted bachelors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fallingfromthursday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingfromthursday/gifts).



Stiles was busy soaking his Lucky Charms with chocolate milk when Scott came bounding into the kitchen, complete with disheveled hair and pajama pants riding low on his hips. He looked just as rumpled as the sheets he'd abandoned just a few seconds ago.

“Dude, why didn't you wake me up?” he growled, eyes still crusted with sleep. Sniffing the air, he walked over to the counter.

Stiles shrugged. “Cause you didn't tell me you wanted me to? And I'm not your personal alarm clock, you know?”

“I'm gonna be late for first period!” Scott whined as he joined his friend at the table, burying his face in his palms.

“Sucks to be you, bro,” Stiles replied in mock-pity, swallowing around a spoonful of cereal. “But while we're at it, you gotta go for some groceries today, fridge is empty and we're out of Lucky Charms.”

Scott's composure faltered if possible even more. “I hate today,” he groaned, scrubbing his hands across his cheeks.

“C'mon man, it's just groceries, not the end of the world.” Stiles tried to cheer his best friend up, clapping Scott's shoulder lightly as he got up. “I'm gonna cook us something nice for tonight, yeah? As a reward if you make it through the day.”

“ _If_ I make it through?” Scott whined as he dropped his forehead against the tabletop with a loud clank, causing the milk in Stiles' bowl to spill over.

Fishing a cloth out of the sink, Stiles started dabbing the mess away before brushing a hand through his friend's shaggy hair. “Yeah, you never know man,” he teased. “You might get eaten by your sports medicine professor.”

Groaning, Scott pushed to his feet after pressing briefly back into the familiar touch. “Wouldn't be the first time, though,” he replied as he thought about the countless occasions during which the middle-aged woman had used him as her favorite chew toy.

“Right, and old habits die hard, Scotty-boy,” Stiles deadpanned, cackling as he finished the rest of his cereal before shuffling out of the room to get himself dressed and ready for his own classes.

“You're the worst!” Scott yelled after his best friend– and he meant it.

 ♦ 

The day dragged on slowly and Stiles found himself quickly annoyed by the monotone voice of his elderly professor. In chemistry class, time apparently decided to turn to molasses and after another seemingly endless hour of scribbling down formulas on his notepad, Stiles decided to call it a day around noon.

With the sky overcast and the sun hidden by a wall of gunmetal, rain-laden clouds, the boy took the bus for the short ride home. Only stopping by the small store on the corner to get a bag of Cheetos and a bunch of sodas, he planned on spending the rest of the day in front of the TV, catching up on _Dexter_ and pretending there wasn't a pile of homework on his desk, waiting for him to be done.

Four episodes in and Stiles was about to fall asleep when a knock on the apartment door startled him. “Just a second,” he muttered more to himself than to the person in the hallway, who most likely would turn out to be Scott, having forgotten his keys in the morning rush.

Kicking himself out of the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Stiles got up and stumbling he made his way to the door, pulling it open with a groan.

The sharp comment died on his tongue as he recognized the person in front of him. Pitch-black, smooth hair, pale green eyes under a pair of expressive brows and a rough scruff spreading down high boned cheeks identifying the man as clearly _not_ Scott and with a yip Stiles bounced into the man's arms, his body curling against the broad, strong chest.

“Whatcha doin' here, yo?” he cooed, long limbs all but squirming around the werewolf until he looked like an octopus hugging a rock.

Derek's voice was low and quiet as he spoke, his arms coming up to hold the boy, cradling him against his own body. “Visiting my two favorite nutjobs,” he chuckled and simply dragged Stiles along as he stepped out of the cold hallway and into the cozy warmth of the apartment.

“Too bad, big guy, 'cause one of your favorites is currently out.” Stiles replied, not quite letting go of his unlikely visitor and pressing a series of soft, warm kisses along Derek's jawline instead.

“Still busy getting his ass spanked by his professor?” Derek assumed and with a grunt he tried to get rid of his leather jacket while balancing his boyfriend in his grip– an attempt that was proven futile as he almost crashed into the wall of the narrow entrance area.

Nodding and sighing, Stiles decided he had better get off Derek before he killed them both and with a last, longing look he untangled himself from the wolf's form, padding into the kitchen instead. “You want a soda? Or beer?”

“Just water for me, thanks,” Derek replied, dropping his boots with a thud before trailing into the living room and flopping down on the small sofa immediately. Pushing his nose into the warm cushions, he flared his nostrils, taking in the combined scent of Scott and Stiles until his lungs ached and burned with it.

“Not gonna complain here, but to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Didn't you say you were busy for the week?” Stiles asked as he aligned himself with Derek after dropping a bottle of water and a can of soda on the coffee table.

Grunting, Derek arranged their limbs until they lay flush against each other, their bodies coiling into the shared heat on the tiny sofa, faces only inches apart. “Change of plans, I guess,” the wolf replied after they had gotten comfortable.

“Meaning?”

“It means that my boss decided to give me some days off and I came here to see how you two lunatics are holding up without me.”

Stiles' smile was bright and unabashed, his eyes glistening like honeyed whiskey in the gray light of the rainy day. “You missed us,” he concluded and leaned in for a messy kiss, his lips melting into Derek's and his fingers flying up to card through the wolf's velvet-soft mane.

“Sure did,” Derek confirmed after a minute of breath-stealing, languid kissing. “What about you?”

The smirk on the boy's lips grew impossibly wider, his body quivering as he curled against Derek's chest with a purr. “Always, sourwolf.” And just like that they dozed off, bodies yielding against each other and limbs entangled under the soft fleece blankets.

 ♦ 

It was around dawn when Stiles felt himself kissed awake by a soft, warm mouth pressing insistently against his. Parting his lips, the boy welcomed Derek with a quiet moan and their tongues slid together easily, stroking and caressing each other until there was no air left in the lovers' lungs and they had to separate again.

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles mumbled against Derek's cheek, the neatly groomed stubble burning his skin as it moved across his chin and neck.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Derek drawled and with a contented sigh he flopped onto his back, writhing a little until he was half buried under Stiles' weight and surrounded by the worn cushions of the sofa. His voice was almost a purr as he spoke again. “So, when's your better half going to be here?”

Trying to sound offended, Stiles huffed out a breath. “Am I not sufficient for you?” he teased as he squirmed around on the werewolf's chest.

“You know you are, Stiles.” Derek was now serious again, his hands coming up to rest on Stiles' belly, holding him in place and keeping him from twisting in his lap. “I'm just–“

“Insatiable and greedy enough to claim _two_ of California's most wanted bachelors for your own, grumpy self?” Stiles cut in, relaxing against the werewolf and sighing quietly at the feeling of a warm thumb tracing patterns on his hipbones.

Derek huffed out a laugh and was about to reply, when the sound of a key being turned in the lock interrupted their banter and Stiles immediately scrambled to his feet.

“Scotty-boy,” he called as he made his way down the small hallway, almost stumbling over his own feet. He was a little bit dizzy from getting up too quickly and when Scott opened the door, he was immediately greeted with an armful of his best friend.

“Stiles?”

“I have a surprise for you,” the boy yipped as he pressed his forehead against Scott's, their breaths mingling. “I–“

“Is it Derek?” Scott cut in, sniffing the air and clutching the brown paper bags stuffed full with groceries tighter to his chest as he tried to carry both them and his friend back into the apartment. It wasn't an easy task, especially since Stiles had filled out during the summer, but werewolf strength helped.

Pouting, Stiles untangled himself from Scott. “Oh man, surprising werewolves is no fun,” he complained and proceeded to press a chaste kiss to his friend's cheek before grabbing the groceries from him and stalking into the kitchen.

“Hey man, supernatural hearing and smelling. 'S nothing I can do about that,” Scott mumbled apologetically as he got rid of his boots and coat.

“It's not like you're even trying,” Stiles' voice was light and he was already busy rummaging around the counter. He wasn't really mad and there was a small smile curling his lips as he watched Scott pad into the living room where he was greeted by a sleepy, adorable Derek.

“Heya,” they both said at the same time and with a quiet thud Scott dropped down where Stiles had been seconds ago, right on top of Derek. Sprawling out on the broad chest, the two wolves took a few moments of quietly scent-marking each other, noses rubbing together, shoulders brushing, the smell of their skins mingling with every soft touch.

“How was your day?” Derek asked eventually, his fingers slowly combing through Scott's hair, pulling quiet little sighs out of the younger wolf's chest.

“Don't even ask,” Scott grunted in reply as he trembled under the familiar touch. They spent the rest of the time waiting for their food like that: curled up together on the sofa, Scott half on top of Derek, their chests heaving against each other and the two of them breathing the much needed closeness while Stiles busied himself in the kitchen, preparing dinner for his wolves just like he promised.

 ♦ 

It was around eight when Stiles shook the two wolves on the sofa awake. “Dinner's ready,” he cooed and pushed a plate into each of their hands, a ginormous slice of lasagna sitting on each of them. With salad on the side and a thick, cheesy crust, it smelled delicious and Derek felt his mouth water at the sight of his dinner.

They ate in companionable silence and with the latest episode of _Game of Thrones_ rolling on the tiny TV. All three of them would occasionally comment on the events of the show, but otherwise the silence was only interrupted by their chewing and the quiet sighs of contentment.

“Man, this was perfect,” Scott eventually spoke as he dropped his empty plate on the coffee table, leaning in to press a warm, greasy kiss on Stiles' neck. His lips were still covered in salt and the scent of tomato sauce and Stiles giggled at the sensation of a hot mouth brushing over his skin.

“I promised, sugar. And as the man of honor we all know I am, I did it Lannister-style.” he replied, ignoring the quiet chuckle coming from both the wolves. They had morphed from an upright position into a more comfortable one, with Stiles being squished by two heavy werewolf bodies and pressed into the cushions by their bulk. The sofa wasn't exactly made for three grown men, but huddled up together and coiled into each other's bodies, it worked out just fine and they settled on playing video games for the rest of the evening.

 ♦ 

The weather had shaped up nasty during their Super Mario Cart marathon and after half an hour of comfortable dozing against Scott's shoulder, Stiles was startled awake by the sound of thunder rolling over the flat apartment building. Rain was pelting down in front of the closed windows and now and then lightning would mar the otherwise pitch-black sky, illuminating the sleeping city in its crude light.

“What time is it?” Stiles slurred as he tried to reach around his friend to take a look at his watch.

“Time for a shower,” Derek chimed in from where he was plastered against Stiles' side, his hands snaking around the boy's hips. “And then to go to bed.” With a crooked smile he pulled the boy against his chest and even higher, throwing him over one broad shoulder before getting to his feet.

Scott made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. “I wanna be carried, too,” he whined, pouting and making grabby hands towards his friends.

Laughing, Derek bent down again to pick up Scott, too, his chest now heaving under the effort of keeping them both upright on his shoulders. “You're eating too much,” he remarked as he straightened up again, swaying lightly on his feet as he staggered forward.

“It's all Stiles' fault,” Scott protested and then laughed as the three of them poured into the tiny bathroom, all but crashing into the shower stall.

Once their feet were on the ground again, Stiles and Scot immediately started stripping out of their clothes. Getting rid of their shirts and pants in no time, Derek had barely enough time to enjoy the view before both the boys started pulling the gray Henley from his shoulders and unbuttoning his pants, giggling all the while and making snarky remarks about Derek's slimmed down form.

“I like it better, though,” Stiles admitted after stealing a messy kiss from the werewolf's lips, both of them smiling like lunatics when their eyes met. “'Cause now we can share clothes for real and I don't have to walk around in Scott's old sweater anymore.”

Sticking his tongue out at Stiles, Scott shimmied out of his boxers and just like that he vanished behind the shower curtain, turning the knob until hot water splashed out of the rusty shower head. Derek was next to enter the small cubicle and when Stiles stepped under the soothingly warm spray, the wolves were already busy soaping each other up, their hands roaming over smooth, golden skin and the sleek planes of bunching muscles. Their hair was stained with suds of soap and Stiles couldn't stifle the moan that climbed out of his chest at the sight of not one but _two_ beautiful men in his shower, ready and waiting to soap him up while cradling him in the heat of their naked bodies.

After showering, they took their sweet time toweling each other off thoroughly and by the time they were done, their skins were flushed from both the scrubbing and the hot, messy kisses they had shared in the narrowness of the shower cubicle. Two angry, red hickeys blossomed on either side of Stiles' neck and a delicious shade of pink caused by Derek's rough stubble spread down his throat and chest, the boy's nipples sore from having a pair of werewolf teeth clamped around them almost constantly.

“Bed,” Derek grunted after pressing a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down Scott's spine, the younger wolf arching his back against those plush, hot lips.

Both boys agreed with a hoarse “yeah,” and together they stumbled out of the bathroom and into the cool silence of Stiles' small bedroom, their hands and bodies never losing contact. With a sated moan they crashed into the sheets, causing the bed springs to creak under the combined weight. The thunderstorm was still going strong, blurring the world outside the small apartment, and all three men took a moment of silent enjoyment, wordlessly cherishing what they had come to build together.

Stiles was first to regain his composure and with a needy whine he pushed his face into the crook of Scott's neck, nibbling at the tendons he found twitching under the honeyed skin.

“I missed you guys,” Derek muttered from where he was plastered against Stiles' back, his hard cock already riding the crack between the boy's soft, round ass cheeks.

Sighing Scott fumbled in the dark until he got hold of Derek's right hand. With a contented sigh and quiet moan spilling past his lips he laced their fingers together. “Missed you, too,” he cooed and with a shudder he nudged Stiles' legs open until he could fit his thigh against the human's crotch, rubbing in slow circles and plucking moan after moan from Stiles' chest.

Time was a strange thing when they were together and tonight was no different. Turning to molasses, it seemed to slow down until there wasn't a single second that wasn't filled with leisurely, lazy kisses and soft touches. Palms skimmed down quivering flanks, fingers carded through disheveled hair and mouths latched onto soft, sensitive skin.

With Stiles cradled by the werewolves' smoldering heat, he kept on rutting and pushing, his body squirming back and forth under each touch and every wet, languid kiss traded between the three of them. His skin seemed to be on fire, every inch burning under rough, calloused finger tips, tracing the constellation of his moles. He came embarrassingly fast with Scott's fingers clasped around his cock and Derek's hot, hard length lazily thrusting against his tight hole.

“'S too much,” he moaned after another two or three minutes of silent ministrations of both the wolves and with a groan he pulled away, back resting against Derek's broad chest and fingers splayed on Scott's pecs.

The disappointed whining noise was produced equally by Derek and Scott and nosing along the human's jaw, stubble-burning the soft skin, Derek made Stiles' cock twitch in renewed interest.

They went slower this time, switching positions now and then until there wasn't a single inch of bare skin untouched, unkissed, uncaressed. Drenched in sweat, their hair stuck to their foreheads and moisture gathered in the hollow below Scott's throat.

“Shhh, it's okay,” Derek mumbled as he dipped his tongue against the soft flesh, tasting the saltiness and sucking a dark bruise into the golden skin. Like a huge shadow he was looming over the younger wolf, kissing his way up and down the squirming chest and toying with the rosy buds that perked up in the cool air.

Moaning lewdly, Scott was second to come. With Stiles’ mouth wrapped firmly around his cock, he bucked his hips once, twice before shooting his load down the boy's throat.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, watching hot spurts of come leaking out of the corner of his best friend's mouth as Stiles smiled around a mouthful of cock, tongue swiping across the sensitive tip of Scott's cock until he almost broke under the intense sensation.

Whining, he wrenched away from Stiles' skilled tongue and fingers, burying his nose in Derek's damp hair instead. “S-Stop it, stop, babe,” he choked out, and clinging to the older wolf he shuddered out his bliss, soft little moans falling from his lips until both Derek and Stiles drank them away.

Afterward the boys took their time reclaiming Derek's body. With tongues and lips they traced every bone and curve, licking and sucking bruises into the golden skin until Derek almost came from the sensation. Their hands never stopped exploring, finger tips roaming all over the smooth planes of hard muscles, palms rubbing up and down trembling thighs and thumbs tracing lazy patterns over hot, hard flesh, making Derek buck his hips and whine needy and low in his chest.

The werewolf eventually came with Scott's tongue licking hot swipes across his tight, pink rim and Stiles' cock shoved down Derek's throat. Legs spread to make room for Scott and lips firmly wrapped around the human's thick length, Derek moaned like a whore and almost forgot to breathe when his orgasm tore through him, sweeping him away and making him swallow until Stiles climaxed again. Come splattering the sheets and soaking into the mattress, the three of them tumbled down and into each other with a long, contented moan and after shuffling around for a while they finally settled down with Scott in the middle.

Wrapped in two king-sized blankets and each other's warm, quivering limbs, they took their time enjoying the feeling of being completely spent and none of them gave a shit about the tackiness of their skin or the sticky mess they had created together.

“I don't ever wanna move again,” Scott muttered after a few minutes of silence, his fingers lazily playing with the soft hair at the nape of Stiles' neck while Derek spooned behind him.

“Too bad tomorrow is only Friday,” Stiles huffed. “I think I'm gonna skip, though.”

Both the boys expected Derek to protest and tell them to get their dumb asses educated, but to their infinite surprise the werewolf only yawned quietly as he propped himself up on one elbow.

“Sounds good to me,” he mumbled sleepily and dropped a row of warm, soft kisses on both their faces, cheeks and lips. “Now lemme get some rest, will ya? I'm an old man.” And with a contented sigh he fell back onto the mattress, curling into Scott's body while his fingers intertwined with Stiles'.

_Life was good._

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless fluff and kinda smut [my dear mate](http://awestiles.tumblr.com/), written as a birthday present. **Happy belated birthday my love, I'm sorry it took me so long.**
> 
> Because there's not enough established Sour Skittles bliss in this world. Period.


End file.
